


just shut up (choose me)

by subtlyhaught



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, baby girl is just so tired let her kiss josie, basically hope loves josie and josie loves penelope but make it hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23564440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlyhaught/pseuds/subtlyhaught
Summary: “She’s not doing you any favors, Josie,” Hope said, with a sigh that felt bone deep. “You deserve to be loved.”or, of christmas parties and hogwarts and unrequited love
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Josie Saltzman
Comments: 9
Kudos: 169





	just shut up (choose me)

**Author's Note:**

> hi yes so basically you know that scene in the half blood prince where hermione and harry are talking about going to slughorn's christmas party? yeah so this is that but make it hosie and make it angstier.
> 
> title from the king by conan gray!

This wasn’t exactly how Hope predicted her afternoon would be going.

The beginnings of winter had just barely begun to show themselves around the Hogwarts grounds. The air had turned crisper, the dirt solid, even frosted over in the mornings. Students wore their robes tighter, swapping ties for scarves, slipping mittens over bare knuckles. The first snowfall had come this morning, an acute reminder of the impending winter holidays, and even more impending party that professor Vardemus was throwing for only his most _elite students._

Which, of course, brought Hope here, to the _click clack_ of Josie’s heels, and the nervous twist in her stomach about going to the party currently dateless. 

Josie and Hope had somehow both made Vardemus’ _invite only_ list, and it seemed as though ever since club meetings had begun, everything had slowly started falling apart. Lizzie didn’t make the list, which, in turn, had caused Josie some pretty intense eye bags. Hope had tried asking about it, she really had, but Josie had always sent her this exhausted gaze, as though telling her she was far too tired to have this conversation again, so Hope stopped pushing. Then, Penelope Park seemed to make it her personal mission to not only _remind_ Lizzie at every given moment (because of course, she _had_ made the list), but also to make out, very publicly, with Josie’s friend MG at a celebration of Slytherin’s latest Quidditch win. Which was kind of how Hope ended up here, trailing after Josie as she cast levitating charms on books, returning them to their rightful place among the shelves and shelves of literature in the library.

Josie was fuming, just positively smoking, rage burning under her skin so aggressively, Hope was honestly amazed she was handling it as well as she was. Her heels clacked loudly along the wooden library floors, resonating between the shelves of books they were passing, and Hope couldn’t help but be keenly aware of how much racket they were making just by walking.

“She’s at perfect liberty to kiss whomever she likes,” Josie was saying, and Hope couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose. “I _really_ couldn’t care less.”

It was a lie, one Hope was acutely aware of. Josie had had a crush on Penelope Park for god knows how long. She had admitted to it in her fifth year, hushed quietly to Hope when Penelope had waved at her before going up to bed. It was nothing more than a _I think I like her,_ but Hope hadn’t forgotten the way it made her chest just a little tighter.

“Was I under the impression she and I would be attending Vardemus’ Christmas party together? Yes,” Josie continued on, despite sounding a bit unsure of herself, her voice wobbling just the tiniest amount on the last word. “Now, given the circumstances, I’ll have to make other arrangements.” 

“You will?” Hope asked, wincing a bit at how her voice scraped against her throat. She hadn’t spoken much, waiting instead for Josie to begin the conversation. 

“Yes,” Josie said, as though that statement should have been a given, “why?”

Hope wished she had a real answer for Josie, beyond the dread in her gut she was too scared to give a name to. The issue laid in a few simple facts:

  1. Every time she had spied Josie flirting with Penelope, or, as it more often was, Penelope flirting with Josie, her stomach began to ache terribly. 
  2. She was pretty convinced Josie’s laughter was made of magic.
  3. Josie’s omission of having a crush on Penelope had made her want to hurl, and at this point she couldn’t use _she just rubs me the wrong way_ as an excuse because it, simply, wasn’t true. 
  4. She had caught herself staring at Josie one too many times to deny what she already knew, deep in her gut, but damn if she was still going to try.



Hope cleared her throat, her eyes darting around the library, looking for anything to distract her for a moment before she had to speak. “I was just…” she began, darting her tongue over her lips, feeling stupidly nervous. “I was thinking maybe we should go together.” 

Josie whirled around on her heel to face Hope so fast it almost startled her. Josie’s eyes were wide, her eyebrows raised, then furrowed, her mouth parted just slightly, the image of confusion. It made panic rise in Hope’s stomach. “As friends,” she rushed to add, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from frowning at herself.

Josie stared at her for a moment too long, and Hope swallowed hard. 

There were moments, moments like and unlike this one, where Hope didn’t know how to read Josie. Moments like Josie not letting go of her hand while they strolled the ground, moments like Josie falling asleep against Hope’s shoulder while they studied in the library, moments like Josie crawling into Hope’s four poster when she just _needed an escape,_ only for her to end up spending the night curled into Hope’s side. Moments like Josie, resting her head on Hope’s collarbones, brushing Hope’s eyebrows with the very tips of her fingers, hushing _you’re so pretty_ into the inky night air. As though the two of them could tell the moon all their secrets and have everything for themselves. Moments that made Hope think.

Josie pulled her lip into her mouth, and Hope tried not to think about that too.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Josie said, almost pouting.

Hope fought the urge to clear her throat. “Who did you plan on bringing?”

“Um, it’s a surprise,” Josie said. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, wound her hands together, clearly nervous. It wasn’t a sight Hope hadn’t seen before, but with their current topic of conversation, she couldn’t help but feel a bit apprehensive at Josie’s reluctance to answer. “Anyway, it’s you we have to worry about,” she continued, keen on a subject change. “You have to bring someone to go.”

Ah yes, here it was. The part of the conversation Hope dreaded reaching. “I don’t _have_ to go, technically.”

“You said you would,” Josie rebutled, pouting again, “you said you’d go for me. So I don’t have to face Penelope alone.”

“Right,” Hope said, trying to control the bite she was inclined to give the word at the mention of Penelope. Mostly, the word just came out in a sigh. “I did, didn’t I.”

“You can’t go with just anyone,” Josie added, casting her gaze about the library briefly, before taking a step closer to Hope and dropping her voice down to a murmur. “I heard some sixth years were thinking of brewing love potions to get your attention. It’s just a rumour, but I’d be careful.”

Hope nodded stiffly, pursing her lips just the slightest amount. Josie was close, too close, close enough that Hope breathed her shampoo every time she inhaled, and she just needed to _not_ right now.

She took a step back. “I’ll uhm, I’ll ask someone I like,” she said, resisting the urge to clear her throat, “someone cool.”

  
  


***

  
  


So Landon Kirby wasn’t exactly the definition of _cool,_ but he was Hope’s friend, and also kind of hopelessly in love with her, so really, she was doing him a service. 

He met her at the end of the hall, outside the room where Vardemus’ party was, clad in dress robes that were clearly lent to him by his brother, Rafael. They were black, and baggy on him, billowing out in a way that made Landon seem smaller than he was. Still, he smiled in that puppy dog way of his when he saw Hope round the corner, and Hope figured maybe this wouldn’t be _so_ bad. 

“Hey,” he said, taking a few steps forward to meet her, “fancy seeing you here. You look fantastic.”

Hope laughed a bit, ducking her head just the slightest amount to observe her wine coloured dress. It, in all honesty, was probably the nicest thing she owned. 

“Likewise,” she said in return, and Landon beamed, offering her his arm.

The two walked slowly, Landon idly commenting on how he’d never been to this part of the castle before. There were paper lanterns above head, likely enchanted with a levitating charm, lighting the way as they walked. Hope had to admit, while she was by no means Vardemus’ biggest fan, the man had good taste in decor. 

The party was almost exactly what you’d expect an elite socialite party to be: flowing silk decor, all gold, some sheer, some less so. Servers with silver platters, offering drinks and fine cheeses. Idle chatter, light music, a photographer. The whole ordeal had Hope feeling kind of out of her element. 

Landon looked just as nervous as she did, and for a few moments she was entirely convinced he was going to puke. The two entered side by side, attached at the hip for all of ten minutes, until Hope somehow managed to lose him to Rafael (who had, for some reason, accepted being a server for the night) while she was swooped up by Vardemus for a picture. It was almost a painful ordeal, with his hand heavy on her shoulder, a grin almost aching in nature stretching her face. The flash was bright, almost dizzying, but then it was over. Hope exhaled heavily, eyes scanning to room for any nooks or crannies she could escape to.

That’s when she saw her.

Josie, she was sure it was Josie, slipping behind one of the sheerer gold sheets adorning the space. 

It was the first time Hope had seen her all night. From what she could see, Josie’s hair was half down, half up, styled in loose waves. Her dress was almost peachy in tone, maybe closer to silver, but Hope couldn’t really tell through the gold fabric she was behind. It made Josie seem hazy, almost like a walking mystery. She looked like poetry. 

Hope was always a sucker for poetry. 

“Josie?” she hissed, crossing the room in a few quick strides and slipping behind the fabric as well. “What are you doing?” 

Josie looked almost alarmed, and somehow dishevelled, as though she had just had a tussle with a house elf. Her hair which, from a distance, had looked pristinely pinned up, was actually beginning to fall from its hold and frame her face in little wisps. She was adjusting her dress straps which seemed to have slipped, somehow (definitely more silver, Hope decided). 

“And what happened to you?” Hope added, giving her another once over. 

“I just escaped,” Josie said, trying to tame her hair. She squinted through the fabric, as though keeping an eye out for someone, and Hope couldn’t tell if it was going to be Penelope or another problem entirely. “I mean,” she started again, swallowing audibly, casting her gaze back towards Hope, “I left Jed under the mistletoe.”

“Jed?” Hope said. “That’s who you invited?”

Josie almost looked sick. “I thought it would annoy Penelope the most,” she admitted, shuffling her feet, sheepish.

Hope tried to contain her scoff, really she did, but at this point it was so _hard_ . She didn’t get it. Penelope was hot, like, super hot, but it just looked like she was pulling Josie around, leading her on. Maybe she wasn’t, Hope really didn’t know their relationship like that, and she definitely didn’t want to, but she was just so _tired_ of all the Penelope this and Penelope that.

She wasn’t jealous, or anything, just… tired.

“What?” Josie said, and Hope almost instantly regretted letting the scoff past. Just a little.

“Nothing,” she tried.

“No, you’re thinking. What?”

Hope tugged her lip into her mouth, biting on it for a moment to make sure she wouldn’t say something stupidly reckless because her emotions were getting the best of her. Her eyes landed on Josie’s furrowed brows, and swept down to her nose, her eyelashes. 

Josie had fallen asleep against her collarbones, just last night, the weight heavy and constant and familiar. She had been so close that whenever Hope’s chest would rise, Josie’s eyelashes would tickle her cheek. Like kisses from a fairy. And every time, Hope would hold her breath, and fight the tears that pricked at her eyes when the sight only made her think of Josie, a week from now, a month maybe, who knows, falling asleep with her head tucked into the crook of Penelope Park’s neck.

More often than not she lost that fight.

Now, with Josie looking at her, not with accusation in her gaze, not with hurt, or disdain, but still with something deep and secret, Hope felt like screaming. 

Fuck it.

“Is she worth it?” Hope asked, feeling brave and locking eyes with Josie. “All this. For her. Is she worth it, really?”

Josie was shuffling her feet again, and Hope almost felt bad for being the cause of her nerves. Hope almost never, _never_ grew cross with Josie. There was just something about the Saltzman that made her react differently, made her edges softer, made her want to work things out. 

Hope wasn’t even really angry now. Anger was easy, most of the time, but with Josie, where anger usually was, she just felt hollow. Like the brunette had emptied her out. 

“Penelope makes me feel happy,” Josie said, though it was more of a mumble, “and… and loved, in a way. She makes me feel seen. She makes me feel like she’s supposed to stay.”

And fuck, Hope knew Josie always expected people to leave her, knew it was what she struggled with the most out of all things, but Hope was _right there._

“She’s not doing you any favors, Josie,” Hope said, with a sigh that felt bone deep. “You deserve to be loved.”

And then there was one of those moments.

Where Josie’s eyes caught on Hope’s face, where they trailed down the curves of her cheeks, the slope of her nose. Where they flitted between her eyes and her lips, where Josie darted her tongue out subconsciously, where Hope thought there was _something,_ maybe, anything. And maybe it was to do with how Hope’s statement had felt like an omission, rather than a fact. Maybe it had to do with the odd moment of courage Hope had felt. Maybe it had to do with Penelope’s absence, but Hope figured she’d probably never find out.

At least, not now.

Especially not with Penelope Park choosing this exact moment to round the corner and have her eyes land on Hope and Josie.

God, maybe Hope _did_ hate Penelope Park.

**Author's Note:**

> i-said-oops on tumblr and tessaportr and sagesaltz on twitter :)
> 
> ...maybe ill write more who knows


End file.
